


Presumption

by yikeslikenikes



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Established Relationship, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Happy Ending, Jooheon Bingo, M/M, Presumed Dead, Reunions, Sad, Sad with a Happy Ending, Stream of Consciousness, Supernatural Elements, True Love, gone missing, mainly a lot of feelings, thinking about the past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 14:07:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18316784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yikeslikenikes/pseuds/yikeslikenikes
Summary: He was, of course, never right there. Never would be again, if Hoseok believed what the whole world was telling him.It had been a long time, probably too long if you asked any of Hoseok’s friends, but Hoseok couldn’t stop. He couldn’t move on.





	Presumption

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to my first Jooheon Bingo fic! This is for my "Presumed Dead" square, so lots of feelings up ahead.

_We have to accept the fact that we’re looking for a body now instead of a person. We’re sorry, but that’s reality._

Loving Jooheon was a habit that Hoseok couldn’t quit no matter how desperately he wanted to. Although if we’re being honest, and we never are anymore, the habit that Hoseok truly wanted to quit was how he’d think about him in every situation, imagine their hands intertwined as he walked down the streets, hear little phantom giggles whenever something funny happened, wake up at night hearing Jooheon whisper his name in his ear, and it really felt like he was _right there_.

He was, of course, never right there. Never would be again, if Hoseok believed what the whole world was telling him.  

It had been a long time, probably too long if you asked any of Hoseok’s friends, but Hoseok couldn’t stop. He couldn’t move on.

It had been a year and a half since Jooheon had gone missing. Five and a half more, and someone out there would sign an official death certificate for him and send it to his parents. Hoseok knows because he looked it up after a week of trying to find him when the police officers heading up the investigation stopped looking for Jooheon and started looking for his body instead.

Hoseok decided then that he couldn’t mourn then because there was still the tiniest bit of hope, and everyone else around him was mourning enough for him. His parents had invited him to a memorial service they held in Jooheon’s honor, and Hoseok had gone, but he hadn’t gone, wasn’t all there, stared at the way the lit candles flickered against the picture they had in the place of an open casket.

Pictures made him cry. Even now, after so long, a glimpse of Jooheon’s precious dimpled smile immortalized and frozen would make his eyes sting until he stared up and away and willed everything to go back to normal. Because Jooheon wasn’t officially dead. Just presumed dead.

Presumption, a noun, an idea that is taken to be true, and is often used as the basis for other ideas, although _it is not known for certain_. Hoseok memorized the definition long ago, most importantly the last bit. It wasn’t that Hoseok was hopeful anymore. He wasn’t. He just didn’t like to think of Jooheon as dead. He liked to think about him as a presumption. An idea. Something floating out in the universe and space and time and transcending all of this terrible murk inside of Hoseok’s own head.

Thinking about Jooheon dying is probably what hurts the most. There had been no crime scene photos. No photos of their usually just a bit cluttered apartment torn to pieces. Chairs thrown down. Glass everywhere. Little drops of blood staining his plain white walls. It was as if he had never existed at all. Like if there weren’t pictures and possessions and music left behind everyone would tell them that Jooheon was just some weird mass hallucination. One second, he was here, telling Hoseok that he was on the way home from the studio, and then he was gone.

The police had never come up with an answer. They tossed it up to a kidnapping at first, telling them to wait for a ransom note or call. When that never came, they thought maybe it was a mugging or robbery gone wrong, wrong place wrong time, a random act of crime that led someone somewhere to make his precious Jooheon disappear off the face of the planet.

Some of them suggested that maybe he had just left Hoseok and his family and friends behind, but they all refused to even acknowledge that as an option because Jooheon loved them too much to just leave them behind. Jooheon cared about people too much. Jooheon would get upset if you didn’t answer his calls because he wanted to talk to you so badly. How could that person just leave without a word?

It had been a year and a half, and Hoseok still thought about him in the present tense sometimes, felt wrong when no one else did, felt something die a bit when his friends looked at him with sad eyes when he did because they would never correct him. They had all sat around their usual table in their usual diner eating their usual meal, and all of them, every single one of them did it. Their own memorial held under neon and fluorescent lights with a variety of milkshakes instead of candles, a ghost of Jooheon’s memories in the room instead of an always smiling but always cold picture of his dimples.

“He was so sweet. Always made sure I had enough to eat even if we were splitting something from the dollar menu,” Changkyun said.

“Caring. Was always so caring,” Minhyuk sniffled out, nodding along.

“He was so fucking talented. The way he wrote songs really was so amazing to me,” Hyunwoo added.

_Was was was._ It made Hoseok want to throw up cookies and cream milkshake all over the table.

That had been three months in. Three months and it was already presumed, and Hoseok still used _is is is_.

It was only a year in when they suggested he try to date again.

_We know he was important to you, and that you loved each other, but he’d want you to be happy, Hoseok. He wouldn’t want you to be lonely._

That was the worst part, in Hoseok’s eyes. Jooheon wouldn’t want him to be lonely, but Hoseok couldn’t help it. He had always thought that you get one great love in your life, and Jooheon was it. Will always be it. Hoseok had never believed in soulmates until he kissed Jooheon for the first time and felt like the universe had aligned specifically for them. Like them finding each other was enough for their tiny and miniscule lives to matter in the grand scheme of reality. They were dust from the same star, meant to find each other again. Halves of a circle coming together to become perfect. Souls that had swam together through lifetimes.

It was the kind of love people wrote poems about, wrote music about, and they did. God, they wrote so much music about each other. They would dance in their living room, and Jooheon would hum the words _I love you_ to a tune he was trying to etch out of his head, and Hoseok would sing _I love you, too_ in a different melody because he had his own song in his head, and they would smile because even when it became a lot of noise to everyone else, it sounded perfect to them.

They had a running game where they would think of all the ways they could describe love. They’d walk down the city streets, hand-in-hand, and point at things and say _that could be love_. The way water droplets would come together on a cool window. The way the leaves rustled together when a breeze blew by. The way whipped cream melted into hot chocolate.

They’d walk home, and somewhere along the way Jooheon would always point to him and say _You. You’re love._ And it never got old because he meant it each and every single time he said it, and Hoseok meant it each and every single time he kissed him for saying it.

Sometimes Hoseok would walk their route by himself, listen to a love song neither of them wrote, and he’d stop by the tree that Jooheon always greeted like an old friend because _I get a vibe from this tree, it knows things, I swear_ , and he’d point at it and say _You. You’re love._ And sometimes the breeze picked up, and the leaves would rustle together, and Hoseok would like to think that it was Jooheon trying to kiss him for meaning it.

And when you had that kind of love, how could anything else even try to compare? Loves like theirs were supposed to last until forever, until they became the old people in bathtubs on the beach in a commercial, holdings hands and sipping wine and smiling at yet another sunset. They had the type of love where you expected to die in each other’s arms, not officially in some office somewhere with no sign of your body or soul there to give Hoseok some type of peace. They had the love that people talked about when they said _love doesn’t hurt_ because it never did until now.

Loving Jooheon was a habit. His only habit, at this point. And he still stayed in their apartment even though it hurt, even though it made it a bit harder to get over everything because in five and a half years when Jooheon’s soul gets released from this strange limbo between presumed dead and officially dead, Hoseok hopes he’ll stop by for a moment, see that Hoseok was still there, a little worse for wear maybe, apartment all clean, and he’d smile and move on thinking that he was happy and fine and at the very least surviving well. Sometimes Hoseok sings out _I love you_ out of habit, hoping that if Jooheon is anywhere at all, he can hear him and hum back that he loves him too.

A year and a half and you’d think he’d be able to move on, but he hasn’t. At least now he can listen to Chet Baker again. He hadn’t been able to for months because it’s Jooheon’s favorite, and now it’s the majority of what he listens to because it’s Jooheon’s favorite.

Sometimes when things get hard, Hoseok sits in their bed and talks like Jooheon might be listening because sometimes he can convince himself that Jooheon is just in the bathroom, brushing his teeth as they talked. Today was one of those days, a day where everything felt a bit off, so he needed to talk.

“It was rough today. I don’t know why. I think it was because that pizza place we used to love, you know the one down the street? It closed down. I still went there. I can’t believe it closed. You used to always get way way way too much extra cheese, remember? And your cheeks would go all round when you ate it? I still went there, Jesus, it always looked so busy. I can’t believe it’s gone. Where am I supposed to get that godforsaken cheese pizza from? Dominos sure doesn’t do that.” He laughed a bit as he ran his fingers through his freshy dyed hair, and then laughed a bit harder, biting his tongue.

“I guess that’s why I dyed my hair this pink color today. I saw the for-sale sign and walked straight to a salon. I know, I know. I’m too impulsive. But at least it’s better than a tattoo, right? At least it isn’t permanent. You always made me feel so impulsive.”

Hoseok stared out at the darkness of his bedroom and sighed. “This is where I say good night now, right? I’d say ‘good night. I love you,’ and you’d say ‘good night. I love you, too,’ and then I’d say something about adoring you and you’d say something about being crazy about me, and then we’d kiss—" Hoseok smooches into the air, “—and maybe we’d just cuddle and sleep and maybe we wouldn’t just cuddle.” He wiped at his face, very used to his own tears, but still not wanting them there when he was saying good night. He took a deep breath and shook his head.

“Anyways, I’m making myself sad again, and I know you hate it when I’m sad, so I’ll try to sleep now. Oh! And I’ll call your mom tomorrow to check on her. She’s doing okay. Lots better than before, I promise. I send her all your royalties. I still don’t understand why you left them to me, but it’s fine. Okay, now, I’m done. Good night. I love you.”

Hoseok sniffed and reached for the tissues he always kept next to the bed now and wiped at himself before curling up. He was letting his eyes close when he heard a knock. He groaned and flipped over in his bed, hoping that whoever it was would go away, but the knocking was incessant. Hoseok sighed as he sniffed and rubbed at his eyes before he got up and walked out of the room toward the front door. He looked through the peephole, and his heart stopped.

Jooheon. Jooheon was standing there, lip between his teeth as he knocked again, wearing the leather jacket and black shirt and jeans that he had disappeared in.

Hoseok ripped the door open, eyes wide as he held his breath. They stared at each other for a moment, and Hoseok wanted to point at him and ask _Is this love?_

Hoseok trembled as he moved his hand forward and touched Jooheon’s face, and it was still smooth and soft under his fingertips. He sobbed once.

“J-Jooheon? Is it you? Is it really?” Hoseok whispered. Jooheon’s face crumbled, and then he was throwing his arms around Hoseok, pulling him close against him. Hoseok buried his face into Jooheon’s shoulder and cried, feeling his legs start to give.

“It’s me, Hoseok, it’s really me,” Jooheon whispered back. They sank down to the ground right inside the door, still holding each other.

Hoseok wasn’t on earth. He wasn’t anywhere. He gripped into that leather jacket like his life depended on it because it felt like it did. Like if he let go, he would suddenly wake up and this would have all been a dream, and then he really would be miserable.

“I w-was j-just telling you g-goodnight,” Hoseok cried out. Jooheon scrambled a bit to grab at Hoseok’s face, and he looked at him, his brown eyes wide and familiar and swimming in tears that weren’t being shed yet, and Hoseok _ached_.

“I never thought I’d see you again,” Jooheon said. His thumbs traced over Hoseok’s cheeks, up to his brows, back down to his jaw like he was trying to rememorize every curve of his face. He sniffed and a laugh bubbled up from his chest. “I never thought I’d see you again,” he repeated softly.

“Please be real. I don’t know what I’ll do if you’re not real, please,” Hoseok said.

Jooheon swallowed and pinched at Hoseok’s cheeks. “I’m real. I’m right here.”

Hoseok gasped in a breath, chest still shaking because breathing was secondary right now. He shook his head a bit because he was terrified to believe it.  “Jooheon?” he whispered because it was the only thing he could say.

Jooheon smiled a little, eyes turning into little crescents, and he pointed at Hoseok’s face. “Hey. You. You’re love.”

Another sob wracked through Hoseok before he threw himself forward and kissed Jooheon hard because he meant it.

It had been a year and a half, and their lips still molded together perfectly. Hoseok scrambled up into Jooheon’s lap and wrapped his arms and legs around him, and Jooheon just wrapped his arms around his waist and held onto him tight, fingers gripping into him, and Hoseok didn’t care. Jooheon could leave bruises on his body from grabbing onto him so hard, and Hoseok would be so happy about them. About Jooheon leaving marks on his body again even if they were just from his fingers pressing into his ribs.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Hoseok whispered out when their lips finally came apart. Jooheon pressed their foreheads together, and the tears that had been swimming in his eyes were finally spilling over, but he was smiling.

“I love you, too, Hoseok. God, I love you, too.”

+++

Hoseok opened his eyes slowly and all he saw was his white wall. He pouted slightly because it had to have been a dream. It couldn’t have been real. He didn’t want to think it was real. He turned over on his back and took a deep breath. He heard the gentle breathing next to him. He closed his eyes and let his head fall to the side, and he tried not to hope when he opened them again.

Jooheon was sleeping there next to him. Face relaxed and soft and lovely. Absolutely lovely. Hoseok let out a soft breath as he turned toward him, scooted closer until their knees knocked together under the covers.

Loving Jooheon was a habit. Hoseok had never stopped, so it was easy to go back to this, to loving him openly in front of him. Hoseok reached out and touched Jooheon’s cheek right where his dimple would be if he was smiling.

Jooheon groaned as he opened his eyes a bit, but as soon as he saw Hoseok’s face, his face lit up. Little crescents again, and Hoseok laughed because he couldn’t control the giddiness he felt.

“You’re still here,” Hoseok said.

“If it’s up to me, I’m always going to be here,” Jooheon said.

Hoseok swallowed. “Shit. Your parents. The police. All our friends.”

Jooheon nodded before he draped an arm around Hoseok and pulled him closer. “We’ll do all that, but just give me a few minutes?”

Hoseok nodded before he moved in and kissed Jooheon, pressing their lips together over and over again in quick little pecks because how could only kiss him just once ever again.

Jooheon sighed happily against his mouth, lips upturned into a pleased little grin. His hands were gentle as he held Hoseok, fingers squeezing into his side like he never wanted to let go again.

Pulling away was hard even if Hoseok needed to breathe. He put his forehead against Jooheon’s collarbone and sighed out.

“Do you know how long you were gone?” Hoseok asked. Last night he hadn’t wanted to ask questions. He had just wanted to live in the moment, in having Jooheon back in his arms, in their breaths mixing together, in fingertips and palms and lips and humming _I love you_.

Jooheon licked his lips. “I saw a newspaper earlier. Like a year, right?”

“A year and a half.”

“God, I lost so much time.”

Hoseok looked up at his face, lips pressed against his jaw. “Where did you go?”

Jooheon closed his eyes. “I don’t know, honestly. I was walking home one second, and then the next moment I was somewhere else entirely. It was like those stories about people disappearing into a different dimension or something. I thought I’d never come back.”

Hoseok squinted his eyes a bit. “How long did you think you were gone?”

Jooheon sighed a bit before he squeezed Hoseok closer. “It was days for me. I didn’t know how I had gotten there, and I didn’t know how to get back. I was losing hope, honestly. And then I was walking around, and I was just back. I saw a newspaper and saw that the year had changed, and I was so scared you wouldn’t be here, but I came anyway.”

Staying here had been a good idea after all. Hoseok leaned back down to press his nose into Jooheon’s neck. “I’m glad you came back,” is all he can say.

Jooheon kissed at the top of his head. “Was it hard?”

Hoseok swallowed around the sudden tightness in his throat. He thought about all the times that he had wished Jooheon had been there. How he didn’t have a New Years’ kiss for the first time in years. How he sometimes ordered two iced americanos out of habit and had to find someone to give it to. How he had to learn how to sleep by himself again. How he had thought about presents to get him only to stop mid-thought to remind himself there was no one to give presents to.

How he hadn’t made a decent song in ages. How they all came out wrong and sad. How he would go to the studio and just listen to all the things Jooheon hadn’t finished instead of actually working.

“They told us you were probably dead,” Hoseok said softly, as if that answered the question.

Jooheon frowned before he tilted Hoseok’s face up to press their lips together again. “I’m sorry. But I’m back. I’m not dead.”

Hoseok sighed out and squeezed at Jooheon’s waist. “I know. I’m really happy you’re here.”

Jooheon smiled before he rolled onto his back and sat up, stretching. “We have a lot to do today.”

“We?”

“If you think I’m going anywhere without you, you have another thing coming.”

Hoseok laughed as he sat up, too. He leaned his head against Jooheon’s shoulder. “We should call your mom first, probably. Tell her to meet us at the police station? And then I’ll tell everyone else.”

Jooheon chuckled, and Hoseok smiled because he was right there like he always wished he was.

“I love you,” Hoseok said.

“I love you, too.”

“I adore you.”

Jooheon stopped and turned to look at Hoseok, and Hoseok’s eyes ran over every inch of his face, traced over the lines he knew like the back of his hand. Jooheon smiled as he leaned closer to him. “I’m fucking crazy about you.”

Hoseok scrunched his nose up before he leaned in and kissed Jooheon, giggling a bit. Jooheon smiled before he was shoving Hoseok back onto the bed, crawling on top of him.

“We haven’t showered or brushed our teeth and we have so much to do,” Hoseok said, but he didn’t fight.

“I don’t care,” Jooheon said. He crashed their lips together again, and Hoseok threw his arms around Jooheon’s shoulders, finding that he didn’t really care either.

Everything ached so sweetly. Like every moment of sadness in the past year and a half was anchoring in his chest as he tried to pry it off. He tried to focus on the way Jooheon’s lips still felt like they belonged against his, how the universe lined itself perfectly just for them because nothing ever felt as right as this. And maybe loving each other was a habit that Hoseok was grateful he could never break.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!  
> Kudos and comments are, like always, appreciated!   
> Hit me up:  
> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/yikeslike)  
> [twt](https://twitter.com/yikeslike)


End file.
